Before the Nothingness (The Great Blue Above Book 4)

by Kevin George

  “What the hell is happening in there?” one of the security workers asked nobody in particular.

  “Experiments,” Samuel whispered, as much to himself as to the others. “Change the view. We don’t need to hear this.”

  Kaprazak nodded and swiped through the image, changing to a view farther down the hallway. No more scientists could be seen, though they watched Dr. Weller continuing to flee. A part of Samuel wished that whatever monster caught Segata would catch up to Weller.

  You’re just as much to blame for what’s happening, Samuel told himself.

  Weller ran into a security squadron and pointed behind him. Most of the guards headed toward the lab while a few others stayed behind with Weller, escorting him away. Nobody seemed to notice that another unexpected person had arrived in the lab hallway. Samuel spotted the newcomer right away, his stomach sinking.

  “Horace,” he said, watching his teenage son wander farther down the laboratory hallway. “Somebody tell the guards to stop him!”

  Samuel hurried toward the elevator, scanning his retina to override the lockdown system. Seconds later, the doors slid open to the lab level and Samuel hurried out, pushing his way past Dr. Weller and a circle of guards. One of them called out his name but Samuel kept going, not stopping until he found a guard escorting Horace back toward the elevator.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Samuel yelled, grabbing his son by the arm.

  Horace immediately pulled away. Samuel was surprised by his strength. He was about to snap at the boy until realizing that he and Horace now stood eye to eye. Horace had recently turned sixteen and a growth spurt had come along with it.

  “Where’s Sean Curran?” Horace snapped at him. “He was about to give me another ISU lesson when one of the guards said he was needed here. What’s happening?”

  Samuel reached for him again but when Horace pulled away, Samuel promised to explain everything if he just came along. Horace realized the nearby guard wouldn’t let him pass so he went with his father, refusing to walk faster than a stroll.

  “Don’t you see there’s an emergency?” Samuel snapped at him.

  Horace kept his arms crossed, trying to appear indifferent to the red flashing lights and siren. He finally stopped and shook his head. “I want to live in ISU-Ville already. You promised that once I turned sixteen and could prove my ability to maintain a surface unit, you’d finally let me—”

  The cacophony of gunfire, screaming and deep growling interrupted Horace’s demands and a shiver rushed through his body. Though he’d never admit it aloud, he suddenly wished he’d listened to his father and gotten the hell off this level. Horace stared down the hallway, where the body of a security guard soared toward them, landing a few feet away from father and son. Both stared down at the man’s body, which no longer bled despite being covered in deep gashes.

  “We have to go now!” Samuel yelled. This time, he held onto Horace too tightly for him to pull away. Still, they couldn’t move quickly enough to escape the blur of white rushing from farther down the hall. What started off as a chorus of gunfire and human screams quickly quieted, with the inhuman growling becoming the loudest sound of all.

  “What is that thing?” Horace called out, unable to stop looking back at the white blur that raced in their direction, gaining on them with every second.

  Samuel yelled for help from the security guards ahead, but Dr. Weller shook his head and pulled the guards into the elevator. By the time Samuel glanced toward the heavy grunting behind them, the white blur had gotten close enough for him to see what Weller’s Blast had created. Samuel opened his mouth to scream when his legs suddenly became entangled with Horace’s and they both fell to the floor.

  Samuel started to crawl away but realized Horace remained between him and the Blasted test subject. Samuel almost kept going when shame engulfed him. He turned and leapt in front of Horace, staring at the human-like form of the Blasted standing in front of them. The Blasted stayed a few feet back, grunting heavily, watching Samuel’s and Horace’s every movement. It was the general size and shape of a human—and wore the torn remnants of a gray One Corp. jumpsuit—but it was covered in thick white fur, had sharpened claws and fangs that jutted out of its surprisingly small mouth. But the Blasted’s eyes were still familiar—still human. Even though Horace didn’t know what he was looking at, he still knew who it was.

  The Blasted growled long and low before finally stalking toward them again. Samuel shook his head and opened his mouth to yell, but he barely managed a gasp. Horace pulled his father back and locked eyes with the Blasted.

  “Mr. Curran, it’s me, Horace,” he said gently. “I don’t know what happened to you, but we can help. I promise.”

  The Blasted unleashed a mighty roar, but Horace did not budge or break eye contact with it. Finally, the Blasted turned and headed back toward the lab, where human moaning lured it away, moaning that was replaced by crunching and slurping moments later. Samuel grabbed his son’s arm and dragged him toward the elevator, which was long gone. Instead, they proceeded to the stairwell, which automatically locked behind them. Samuel started toward the stairs heading up, but Horace shook his head and promptly vomited.

  “I’m not. . .” Horace said, shaking his head. “What was that? What happened to. . .”

  He was about to throw up again but closed his eyes, doubled over and placed his hands on his knees. Samuel started to approach him—he wanted to comfort him—but he’d never been at a greater loss for words. He barely recognized the son in front of him and knew he’d lost the chance to be his father long ago.

  “I’m. . . sorry you saw that,” Samuel said. “Come with me to your room. . . or to the security level. . . at least until the lockdown is over. That. . . thing won’t be able to leave this level.”

  “That thing is Mr. Curran. . . was Mr. Curran,” Horace snapped. “And I’m not going anywhere with you ever again. I want to—”

  “You can go. . . to ISU-Ville,” Samuel said. “If you promise not to mention anything you just witnessed. That was. . . an accident. . . what happened to the survivalist. Dr. Weller will be looking into his experiment and dealing with it. I don’t know if—”

  “You’re lying,” Horace said, taking a step back from his father. “But I don’t care, as long as you let me leave.” Samuel frowned, but nodded. “And I think it’s best if nobody in the village knows who I am. I don’t want them knowing my real identity in case they’re not big fans of the Jonas name. None of them have seen me in years so it should be okay. I’ll just go by my middle name.”

  “Marshall.”

  “You remembered,” Horace said with a snort. “I don’t exactly expect to run into Grandfather, but I’ll try to find him and let him know to keep my anonymity.”

  Samuel nodded. He wanted to apologize, or wish Horace luck, or promise to keep a close watch on him. But Samuel suddenly felt his throat tightening at the idea of his son being gone from The Mountain. He couldn’t let Horace know he had such an effect on him. When Horace stopped and turned around, Samuel wanted his son to say he’d changed his mind.

  “Could you at least call down to transport and have them take me out right away?” Horace asked.

  “Won’t you want to pack some belongings?”

  “I’ve had my bag ready to go for years,” Horace said. And with that, he hurried down the stairs.

  “Do you realize. . .”

  Charles Jonas was interrupted by a coughing fit so extreme that blood trickled from the side of his mouth. He leaned an arm against the boardroom table to steady himself. More than one member of The Board watched with great anticipation, hoping the old man would keel over, but Samuel stood and took his father’s arm, holding on tightly even as Charles tried to pull away.

  “Get. . . your hands. . . off,” Charles said, gasping for each word.

  “Maybe we should get you to Medical,” Samuel said.

  Charles shook his head. “I’ll take my. . . stem cells later. . . I�
�ll be fine,” he said, clearing his throat as he finally caught his breath. “The same can’t be said for all the people we lost today. Their families will never see them again.”

  All eyes turned on Dr. Weller, who stood at the opposite end of the large table.

  “Those families—and those guards—only had a chance at life because of us,” Weller said.

  “Us? Or me?” Charles snapped.

  “We all played a role in building our habitats and saving our people,” Betty Van Horn said defiantly.

  Charles’s head snapped in Betty’s direction and she turned away, looking toward her fellow Board members for support, none of them ready to challenge One Corp.’s leader.

  “She means no disrespect, Father, none of us do,” Samuel said. “What happened today was tragic. I know a lot of those guards left behind wives and children. The Board has already decided to relocate their families to the highest level in The Mountain, where they’ll be well provided for.”

  “In the cells?” Charles asked.

  Samuel shook his head. “It’s not like that. I promise, those rooms will be set up well for families. . . for children.”

  Charles sighed. “Does anyone care to explain how this catastrophe happened?” he asked, staring at Dr. Weller.

  “My Blast research reached a critical point,” Weller said. “There was only so much animal testing to be done before we moved on. I know what happened was. . . unfortunate. . . but I’ll be able to learn so much from Curran’s body.”

  “Sean Curran?” Charles asked. The old man’s eyes widened as he turned to his son. “That’s who the Blast was tested on? How? He was the best survivalist we had. He taught so many of our villagers.”

  “And now the village is full so he was expendable,” Martin LeRoque added.

  “I can think of quite a few others that are expendable,” Charles growled. “Especially those that made the decision for human testing without receiving my approval.”

  “It was me, Father,” Samuel said. “I selected Curran and I gave approval. Your focus has been elsewhere and I didn’t think you’d want to be bothered with what we were doing here.”

  “And we agreed with that approval,” Martin added. “We continue to support the project that Dr. Weller has worked so hard to—”

  “Shut up! All of you!” Charles snapped, slamming his fists on the table. He refused to make eye contact with his son, but he spoke so quietly that his words were meant for Samuel only. “You knew I’d be against this.”

  “Why would that be any different than all along?” Samuel asked.

  “You went around me to get what you wanted,” Charles said.

  “I did,” Samuel said. “It was the right time.”

  Charles snorted.

  “Please, Mr. Jonas, if anyone is to blame, it’s me,” Dr. Weller said, slowly stepping forward. “But not for taking the next logical step in my project. I should’ve increased security during this phase of testing. I didn’t expect my subject. . . Mr. Curran. . . to change so drastically. I should’ve foreseen the strength of the Blast and what would happen. But we should all be excited for what the future—”

  “Excited?” Charles asked. “That nearly a dozen men and women died while you played the role of Dr. Moreau?”

  “You don’t realize how much progress I made this time after the last. . .”—Weller stopped and looked at Samuel, who subtly shook his head—“. . . the last round of animal testing. Curran not only survived, but his transformation. . . it was unbelievable.”

  “I saw footage from the hallway; I personally inspected the body of every man and woman killed in the attack,” Charles said. “Unbelievable isn’t the word I’d choose to describe Curran. You turned him into a. . . a beast. Is that how you intend to transform the human race?”

  Dr. Weller shook his head. “Of course not. In the next round of testing, I’ll tweak the Blast to ensure my next test subject doesn’t have such an increased level of aggression and—”

  “There won’t be another round of testing!” Charles yelled. “No more splicing or hybrids, no more Blast program!” His words lingered for several awkward seconds as he fought back another coughing fit. He struggled to control his breathing and sat down, leaning back in his oversized chair until exhaling slowly, deeply. “I’ve allowed this to go on long enough. We have to focus on goals and projects that have the chance to help people, not rip them to shreds.

  “There are energy problems with ISU-Ville, digging problems in the City Below and its tunnels. And what about the Dome project? Not only will the Dome sustain different types of environments, we’ll have a structure where people will be able to survive in larger numbers and form closer societies. We need to figure out how to build more than just the one Dome. There’s so much good we can still accomplish if our time and effort is focused on the right projects.”

  All eyes turned on Dr. Weller, who frowned and stared down at his shaky hands, which he quickly pulled beneath the massive table.

  “Your advice is to worry about a Dome at the far end of our lands?” Martin LeRoque asked incredulously, the only member of The Board with courage to speak. “You think that’s what’s best for The Mountain?”

  “There are three parts of One Corp.’s plans, not just here,” Charles said. “And beyond our lands are—”

  “We don’t care what’s beyond our lands,” Martin snapped back. “We don’t care about a foolish Dome or a bunch of humans trying to live like moles underground. We want to make this. . .”—he motioned to the walls around them—“. . . work. We want to give these people a chance to survive. I speak for every other person in this room when I say we want the Blast perfected.”

  Charles slowly turned to the other Board members, some of whom met his gaze while others didn’t. Regardless, they all nodded their agreement with Martin. Charles ended on Dr. Weller, who only glanced at Charles before looking down at the table.

  “I understand your reservations. After what happened today. . . knowing that I’m the cause for what happened to so many people. . .” Weller stopped and frowned. “But that was the result of poor security, not poor science. I’ve already isolated the most dangerous section of polar DNA for aggression and I know how to remove it from the Blast. I’ll also leave in more human DNA so the physical transformation won’t be so. . . extreme. Today’s tragedy won’t happen again.”

  Charles’s face turned bright red and Samuel expected another explosion from his father. But Charles sighed, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair.

  “I’m an old man,” Charles said, snorting with surprise as if he’d just discovered that fact. “I’m also a sick man. My stem cell shots will keep me alive for now, but it won’t be long until the lot of you—along with my grandson—are in charge. I can only provide my opinion at this point, but I’m beginning to realize it’s another Jonas that must have final say on the matter. Is that agreeable to everyone present?”

  “Of course,” Weller answered immediately.

  All eyes turned to Samuel, who suddenly felt wobbly on his feet standing beside his father’s chair. Several Board members—Martin and Betty included—smiled openly in his direction. Samuel barely glanced at them and instead looked down at his father, whose wheezing, labored breathing suddenly filled the silent room. Charles remained rigid, though, his eyes aimed forward at the traitors surrounding him. For some reason, Samuel thought about Horace in that moment and wondered if his son had left the facility yet.

  “I have to agree with my father,” Samuel said, ignoring the gasp from Betty Van Horn. He also avoided looking at Weller. “In theory, the Blast program is a good idea—and we gave it our best shot—but the world is too short on time to focus on a project that caused so much pain and death.”

  “You can’t be serious,” Martin said. “Nigel, please, talk sense into them.”

  Samuel finally looked to Weller, who shook his head at The Board. “I received all the support I could’ve needed from Mr. Jonas and Samuel. I don
’t agree with their decision, but I’ll give them the same respect they gave me. If they say to shut down the Hybrid Blast, that’s what I’ll do.”

  “Thank you, Nigel,” Samuel said. “The program is officially disbanded and all Blast you’ve produced should be destroyed.”

  With that, Samuel adjourned the meeting and stood, helping his father do the same. They walked out of the boardroom together, both Jonases standing tall and proud. Once they stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind them, Charles’s legs nearly gave out and he stumbled against the wall. Samuel rushed to take his arm and this time, Charles didn’t pull himself away.

  “Thank you,” Charles wheezed.

  “Of course, Father,” Samuel said. “I wish you’d slow down and focus on receiving your treatments and focusing on getting healthier for—”

  “I’ll live as long as I live,” Charles said. “But my thanks was meant for your support back there. I truly believe the Blast isn’t the right way to go.”

  “Yes, you’ve made that abundantly clear,” Samuel said. “As always, you were right. I’m just sorry I went behind your back and approved human testing. I’m starting to understand why you prefer living in ISU-Ville. The Mountain is a dangerous place, and not just because of the beast I helped create. I’m glad Horace is getting away from here for now.”

  “That’s. . . excellent,” Charles said, fighting back another cough. “I’ll be sure he’s well cared for out there, that the guards make sure he’s protected and has enough food and supplies. For that matter, he could live in my ISU instead of one of the normal—”

  “Actually,” Samuel said, gently interrupting him, “Horace intends to remain anonymous among the ISUers; no connection to me or the Jonas name whatsoever. He’s going by his middle name so he can live a normal life. . . at least what’s normal now.”

  Charles snorted. “If anyone should understand the difficulty of growing up a Jonas, it’s you. But you came around and I’m sure he’ll eventually do the same. You made the right choice backing me in the boardroom, and you made the right choice in letting him go. I’m proud of you,.”